


Small Kid, Big City

by ironicallyStupid



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alcoholism, At some point that occures too, Bipolar Disorder, Bullying, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Humanstuck, I aint kankri, I might make sexist or even homophobic jokes, I probably havent tagged everything, Like, M/M, Might be a sore subject for you, Mostly i dont mean it, Multi, Read at Your Own Risk, Schizophrenia, The charcater dont, There will be more serious scenes that include those things, Violence, Well - Freeform, but it might be a sore subject for some of you guys, but maybe, just sayin, most of the time they dont mean it, sex scenes, some mental problems, there will be sex haha, whatever, yknow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicallyStupid/pseuds/ironicallyStupid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-probably never going to continue this-<br/>Big was always how David Strider dreamt. But there's something— or more like somebody who pulls him back, hurts him to the point of forgetting his hopes. He has fought with him for thirteen years... He's exhausted. But will he make a mistake by running away? Will the upcoming struggle be worth it? He's not a seer, he can't tell. But he has some friends, some enemies and a fuck ton to do to get to the top.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eternal Rage

They were chanting his name and he loved it. Their voices rang in his ears and he smiled on the inside. It excites him. His heart was pounding hard against his chest and the corners of his mouth threatened to twitch up. He wanted to look at everybody’s faces. He wanted to see exactly how inspired they are, if they were as excited as he was… He saw admiration in their wide eyes that were staring at him and giving him all the attention in the world. He felt a knot in his stomach but that was a good thing. He also felt a tinge of pride inside of himself, realizing how many people followed him and so desperately wanted him to speak up. It was such an amazing sensation. He wished this could last forever. He wished he could stay here and talk to these people all life. He wished he could meet every single one of them and learn more. He wished for so many things. Everything was… marvellous. His mind was everywhere, making this all the more overwhelming.

 

But then...

 

These happy thoughts...

 

So slowly...

 

Were crushed...

 

 

_Happiness was a delusion after all._

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

**Fourteen years ago...**

 

 

The boy ran as fast as he could in the apartment. Not because he was happily playing tag with friends, but because he was doing something bad, impulsive and completely necessary, unfortunately. Running away from home has crossed every child’s mind but few have done it. David E. Strider was one of them. Once he has decided he wants to do something, he does it. The kid was a determined and sworn realist. He doesn’t expect much from this getaway. All he wants is to leave this blasted town and never come back.

 

His palms were sweating and the anxiety building up inside of him was slowly weighing out his rational thinking. He inhaled and exhaled as quietly as possible, afraid that his older brother might hear him. _He can’t hear me; that’s impossible. He’s at work._ Dave gripped his grey backpack so hard that his knuckles turned white. He unzipped it quickly and tried to stop his hands from shaking violently. He was on the verge of throwing up from the immense pressure. Dave shoved as much as clothes as he could in it, his iPod and earphones, his charger, his only two finished records, a watch, notebook and three pens. He grabbed whatever food and water he could find, and there wasn’t much, putting these supplies in a plastic bag. He already bought a ticket and the price wasn’t cheap. 132 dollars for a 33 hour route from Houston to New York. His saved money was enough for it. The thirteen years old boy can’t believe that he’s currently stealing from his own brother but he is and he keeps telling himself that that asshole deserves even worse. Dave isn’t cruel, but he honestly wants that man to get hit by the bus that will lead to his freedom. He was so angry, so done with being treated like crap. Hate took over his actions and once he entered his room for one last time, he took a piece of paper, a bright red marker and scissors. Dave began writing in a fast and messy manner, venomously glaring at the words.

 

**_dear bro_ **

**_huh... this starts ironically cheesy right? well whatever here goes nothing i guess_ **

**_dear bro,_ **

**_you just made a foe_ **

**_that foe would be me_ **

**_if you havent guessed by now_ **

**_i hate you so much, you even got me to flee_ **

**_i made a vow_ **

**_to never come back_ **

**_see that? its my blood on the letter_ **

****

Dave paused his writing to grab his old sword (That also reminded him to shove a little hunting knife in his backpack for self-defence, in case something happened.) and cut his thumb with the sharp edge. He hissed softly and pressed his finger to the bottom right corner of the piece of paper. This is the most and last ironic thing his brother will see from him.

 

**_its coloring the paper quickly and with every second its getting redder_ **

**_my heart is feeling heavier_ **

**_than it should be_ **

**_when it must be like a feather_ **

**_since i finally get to leave_ **

**_i was too naive_ **

**_to believe_ **

**_that you would change_ **

**_possibly act a little more mature and turn to a new page_ **

**_instead of having the need to show strength in a way a man would in the bronze age_ **

**_the pressure..._ **

**_fuck, the pressure is unreal_ **

**_have you ever cared enough to ask me how i feel?_ **

**_i know you havent but thats okay_ **

**_i’ll tell you_ **

**_i used to view you as a hero_ **

**_you turned out to be a big zero_ **

**_the physical and mental pain you caused me was worse than stepping on a lego_ **

**_youre more evil than that bitch shego (remember her?)_ **

**_you make me scream in falsetto_ **

**_i want to rip your throat out and throw you in the ghetto_ **

**_set lil cal on fire and then ‘accidentally’ drown him in espresso_ **

**_in your head ill break a cello_ **

**_punch you in the face and be like, hello!_ **

**_im not changing my mind about this, hell no_ **

**_im barely on my way and im already feeling more mellow_ **

**_but bro, i need you to stay here and not search for me because im not nemo_ **

**_just go eat some pasta guiltily and dont forget the pesto_ **

**_im short on time, i should really let go_ **

**_and bro... one more thing._ **

****

**_dont ever refer to me as lil man_ **

  * **_Sincerely, David Strider_**




 

He cut a little piece of tape and stuck it to the top of the note. Dave looked around the room, wondering if he has forgotten something. He nodded his head, telling himself that he should leave before deciding to stay. He went to the kitchen and stuck the note to the fridge full of everything but food and he dragged himself to the front door. The boy glanced back at the apartment and grimaced in disgust, spitting on the entrance. Fuck this place. He hates it. He hates it so much. He hates his brother, this town, the shitty apartment and dangerous strifes- Just. Fuck it. Fuck it all. He hates everything. Dave slammed the door closed and tilted his chin up, confidently stomping out of the tall flat. His objective? To get to Greyhound Station on time without getting caught. That thought was absolutely absurd, however. He _knows_ when his older sibling starts and gets off of work. So, he made sure that his ticket is for when his brother is working. Dave has been planning this escape for one year and to be quite frank, he feels pretty proud of himself for organizing all of this. Sure, he has nowhere to go when he gets to New York but at least he has a dream. Dave thinks big, thus, his dream is big too. It’s a dream that he’d rather not share with anybody since he knows that they’d laugh in his face. _They always laugh at him._ They always laugh at his hopes. They always laugh at his hobbies. They always laugh at his odd looks. Everybody’s constantly sneering in his face. He’s going to make them regret everything they’ve said. He’s going to prove all of those asswipes _wrong._ His fists clenched tightly as he walked quickly, taking big, wide steps thanks to his long legs.

 

Dave has always been tall for his age, sticking out like a maypole amongst his classmates and feeling pretty stupid about that. He was really skinny. Weak-looking too. But it was the opposite. The kid could swallow food weighting twice as much as him, and thanks to his brother’s intense and mentally-shattering training, he was quite strong despite his weak appearance. Don’t judge a book by its cover is what they say and that saying couldn’t be more accurate. One can’t instantly assume that he’s a freak just because he’s albino. It’s rude and very offending. Dave wasn’t blonde like his sibling, he had _white_ hair. As in, _actually snow white hair._ His skin colour was... What even was that? Is it even a _colour?_ He’s sickly pale, almost translucent as you can _clearly_ see the purple and blue veins on his wrists and temples. That’s why he hates the fucking beach; he’s too sensitive to the sun. He never goes there. Plus, it would be dangerous to do so considering that he has sunscreen smeared over his skin on a regular basis. How the fuck will he be able to protect himself then? By hiding in a tent? The real meaning of going to the beach would be lost in that case. There’s no reason to go.

 

That reminded him that he forgot his sunscreen. For a moment there Dave thought about going back to get it. No, better not risk it. His brother’s work shift ends soon and he doesn’t want to miss the bus. He’s just going to buy some later on. He won’t die but he’d rather avoid having his skin deform. The young Strider quickened his pace and he soon found himself in front of Greyhound Station. He didn’t realize he was running. Sweat streamed down the back of his neck and he panted quietly, his cheeks dusted with a light red colour. The boy looked around him. He thought everybody would be older than him here. But the people waiting for the bus were from all sorts of ages. All of them were bumpkin looking fellows. Except one person. It was some sort of kid. Everybody seemed exhausted and desperate to get the fuck out of here. Dave can sympathize. He wasn’t all too fond of Houston either. But this kid... He... He looked so fucking cheerful, clutching his ticket and grinning in a way so... Cute. So cute and adorable, that his smile seemed unreal. One would say that it’s photoshopped if they looked at him on a picture. Dave felt jealous. _Why isn’t this little bastard miserable too?_ He was so envious of this kid and he didn’t even know him. Nobody was talking, nobody was laughing or smiling. They were all silent and blank-faced but that boy. He felt as if this kid’s smile was taunting him. _He’s probably one of those assholes that rub their high grades at school in their failing friend’s face,_ the albino thought to himself bitterly. He knew that he shouldn’t go around and judge people like that but he couldn’t help it right now. Dave was bubbling with anger under his coolkid façade. He never knew he had it. The eternal rage. He has always had it. And he now realizes... that he has been angry for his whole life. He hates it. He hates it so much and he can’t do anything about his frustration.

 

And then he saw him.

 

His brother, in all of his glory, clutching a piece of paper in his gloved hand. The bus was already here and Dave was desperately pushing through the crowd of exasperated people so he can get in as quickly as possible. He breathed heavily, now sweating even more and turning his head in every direction as if he was scared his guardian will have the time to catch him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it was impossible, but he also thought that it was impossible for his bro’ to find out, right? _He was going to get me, he was going to drag me back to hell and beat me up good. He’s coming, he’s going to get me. He’s right behind me. I can hear his breathing. I’m so dizzy... Fuck, why aren’t these people moving faster?_

Dave was already in, being the last person getting on the bus. He stared in horror as the doors of the large vehicle closed right before his bro could grab him, his tanned face disappearing from the albino’s sight. _Why did it feel as if everything happened in slow-motion? That was downright torturing his mental stability right there._ His heart was racing and he let out a long sigh. He was holding his breath. Dave can’t believe what happened. It made him nauseous. The rush of adrenaline was too much to be handled properly by his thirteen years old body, leaving him with shaking legs and a face so pale, it was green.

 

“Hey! Boy! I don’t have all day. Pick a place and sit so I can do my job properly.” The driver growled in an unpleasantly rude tone and gnashed his teeth.

 

Woo, nasty.

 

His feet were heavy. When did they get this heavy? It was hard to move but he forced himself to take a seat at the very back, keeping his head low and letting his shades slide on the tip of his little nose. Dave bent down to put the plastic bag and backpack in his feet when an overly friendly voice boomed right next to his ear. The albino flinched in surprise and dropped his belongings, causing the voice to laugh a light-hearted laugh which was oddly not annoying him. His ears went red. Gosh, this is so uncool. Dave looked up, only to be greeted by a wide, perfectly blinding smile.

 

“Hi! I’m John! And you seem to get scared easily!”

 

 

…

 

 

That's how he met John Egbert. He was somebody who could read Dave like an open book since day one.


	2. You're Such A Butt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's a butt. John's a dork. They hold very serious, very important thirteen-year-old conversations and annoy the living shit out of old hags.

He has never wanted to punch somebody in the face so hard and then hug the living hell out of them. John Egbert was possibly one of the most annoying people in the world. His too cheery rambling was making Dave want to puke. Literally, urging him to break the window and vomit. Or no, better, throw up on this blabber-mouth of a bastard. He didn't ask for him to start talking, all the poor boy wanted to do was drown in self-pity and misery. Can’t he do that? He’s in a gloomy mood and nobody’s supposed to speak to him. He doesn’t _want_ anyone to speak to him. He’d rather sulk for 33 hours alone. Why is this kid even bothering with him? Exactly how fucking oblivious is he to not see how displeased Dave is with his existence. At some point, the white-haired boy started getting bluntly rude to make him shut up. But he remained unfazed, holy shit. His niceness would've been endearing if he wasn’t overly sweet. It makes him sick to his stomach. While in the same time, he was so innocently cute with those deep blue eyes that were hiding behind a pair of rectangle glasses that Dave noted were with a pretty big diopter, judging by the thickness of the lenses. John must be a hell blinder than him.

“...And then I said that I don’t want to go to Texas! Last time I did, my grandma wouldn’t stop trying to get me to bake with her. But you know how parents are, all stubborn and stuff!” The kid giggled.

“No, I don’t know ‘how parents are’.” He grumbled through gritted teeth.

“What do you mean?” The apparent New Yorker inquired and tilted his head.

Dave winced at the question. He knew he’d ask that. John meant no harm, he can tell. But being asked this... It still hurt. It felt like he was being stabbed even if the young Strider thought those wounds had long ago healed.

“I don’t have parents.” He admitted quietly and glanced over to John to look at his reaction, surprised to have his shoulder patted, as if he was being comforted.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s all good as long as you’re well and healthy, though, right?” The dark-haired boy smiled a warm smile that made Dave's heart ache and hurt.

“Yeah...” He slumped in his seat and looked up at the ceiling with an almost relieved sigh, like he has been holding his breath for all this time “Yeah, you’ve got a point... You know, you’re not that bad Egbert.” The albino smirked and glanced back over him, the other simply letting out a laugh that sounded like Christmas bells.

“See, I knew you’d loosen up! You’re so stiff, Dave!” He blurted out without much thought.

“Shut the fuck up.” Dave immediately scowled, still grumpy and sour over his shitty life.

He has all the right in the world to be a bitch right now. Usually, he’d joke as well, having the ability to humour everything and everybody, but currently, he felt like garbage and was in no mood for cracking jokes or laughing at any. At that John actually looked a little hurt. And that was when Dave wanted to hug the living hell out of him.

John was around his age, but he looked so much younger. He had the baby-face thing going on. His skin was a creamy warm beige colour and his cheeks had this natural flush, making his round face more adorable than it already is. Almond-shaped sapphire eyes, dark long lashes rimming them and thick eyebrows rising above them were having a conflict over whether he should look mature or like the sweetest kiddo there is. He wore braces since his teeth weren’t exactly in place and that added to his undeniable dorkiness. (Is that a word? Nobody fucking cares, it now is.) He wasn’t nearly as tall as Dave but at least he didn’t have the same ailing appearance. His hair, unlike the albino's, was raven black and shined just like in the ads for hair dye. It also seemed to be attempted to be fixed in one place, ending up looking messier than before. All and all, he was precious.

“That’s a bad word!” John suddenly exclaimed.

“What?” Dave blinked behind his shades, his usual poker face in tact.

“You shouldn’t use cuss words, they’re bad and they don't suit your age!” Dave stared at him dumbfounded.

Did he just get scolded over the fact that he cussed? Hilarious. He snorted mockingly. No, but seriously. Hilarious. Annoying too. John's mostly annoying. Annoyingly cute.

“What are you? My nonexistent father?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Why are you so rude!?”

 _Now_ John was upset and he fell silent. He stared at Dave for a few moments, looked away and all cheeriness drained from his face. Dave felt like an ass. Of course his expression didn’t budge from the straight face and his voice remained just as flat and drawled out. Slow. He spoke in a very frustrating for temperamental people way. He always took his time pronouncing every single word. And yet, they still couldn’t come out of his pursed, pale lips clearly. He tended to slur them out so much, that he sounded high. His classmates often questioned each other, wondering if he had a soul or not. When Dave heard them, he would say that he was actually dead on the inside. You see why he can’t make friends? He didn’t like to talk much. At least not to _boring_ people. And he found everybody boring despite his own dull behaviour. He also wasn’t afraid to say what was on his mind. The kid was brutally honest and always ready to slap reality on the table unlike his peers who had unrealistic expectations and dreams. Children can’t take that. At least most of them can’t. Dave matured faster, although he was barely thirteen, because his brother didn’t _allow_ him to be a kid. Sure, it’s not good to lie to your son or daughter (brother in this situation, as he’s his guardian), but Broderick Strider went a little too far. Dave was a toughie, that’s true, and he isn’t exactly cut out to be nice. Can you blame him? It’s how he was raised. Fucked up it is indeed. However, he’s not about to be one of those shitheads that don’t realize there are a ton of people that have it worse than him. He’s aware of it, which prevents him from being a self-obsessed asshole.

“John?”

No answer. The agitated boy was worrying his bottom lip stubbornly.

“John, come on.”

Still nothing.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

The black-haired boy glanced back at him for a second, but just looked away again. Dave was starting to feel worse. He was only trying to befriend him and he acted like a fucking dick… He sighed disappointingly at himself and stared at his folded hands in his lap. Then he got an idea and leant against the window, placing the backside of his hand over his forehead and gasping dramatically. He can’t sulk forever. There’s no reason to. He’s going to waste his life being a grumpy metaphorically and at some point literally old man if he keeps up this attitude.

“Oh, no! What will I do now that John Egbert himself ignores me?” He whaled and he could tell he already got the other’s attention and kept up the act as stupid as it was “I can’t possibly live without hearing his voice every morning... What will happen to me?” He continued and threw himself at the blue-eyed boy’s side with a gasp “I’ll die _Egbertless_!” He wheezed and squeezed his dark red shirt, where his heart is, pretending to have a seizure.

“Oh my god, Dave, get off!” John laughed and even snorted, pushing the albino away, but failing miserably as Dave fell back on him again.

“I can’t, I’m dying. I can already see light in the tunnel…” He stretched out his arm forwards as if he was trying to reach that ‘light’.

“You’re so silly, Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed and giggled, cracking a vague smile from Dave’s side, which disappeared as quickly as it made itself evident.

“Tell me you’ll stay, John.”

“Dave, no-”

“Say it.”

John opened his mouth to get this over with, but some cranky lady’s voice interrupted him, asking for them to stop yelling with forced politeness. At least she was nice enough to say _please_. Dave didn’t care about that as much as he did about the fact that she was considerate enough to not make a scene.

“Wow, way to go, you sore loser. Why are you so loud? Damn obnoxious.” The Texan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and pulled away from John’s side.

“What!” John gasped, outraged by the accusation.

“Don’t talk to me, you’re embarrassing.”

“You’re such a butt!”

They laughed quietly, proceeding to joke and talk about each other’s interests and John’s favourite movies, which Dave claimed were horrible. (“They’re total shit.” “No way!” “Accept it. The actors are unimpressive, the storyline is nonexistent-“ “Your filter is nonexistent!” “What the fuck are you talking about; I’m a gentleman from first class.” “Have you even watched them?” “Do I look suicidal to you?” “You can’t say anything as long as you haven’t watched them.” “Of course I can. They’re action movies. That’s enough for me to know.”) Time passed by quickly and soon they reached their first stop. The wait for the toilet in that awful gas station almost made them wet their pants and miss the bus. (“Yo Egbert.” “What?” “Let's buy diapers before we piss ourselves like a couple of toddlers.”) Thankfully, they made it just in time and continued their journey to New York. Their talks were refreshing to Dave and gave him a new kind of hope and reassurance that the decision he made is the right one. John was a nice kid and he couldn’t be gladder that he encountered him, or else he would’ve died of boredom and self-pity.

They talked for hours until the conversation faded out due to John’s sleepiness. After a mocking lullaby sang for ironic purposes by Dave, John fell asleep with his head tilted back and his lips parted to let out small snoring sounds. His glasses were hanging from the collar of his striped white and blue shirt, and Dave couldn’t help but to admire how long and dark John’s eyelashes are. Holy shit, aren’t they heavy? Don’t they smack against his glasses’ lenses? The albino mentally slapped himself. What are these stupid questions? Frustrated at himself, Dave picked up the grey backpack he had taken with himself and placed it on his lap. He unzipped it and shoved his hand in it, searching for his notebook and a pen. A sudden wave of ideas for rhymes hit him and he needed to write them down so he can use them in the future. He had no idea why he always did that. He was just so utterly engrossed by rap... Besides rap, he was obviously very fond of house and techno. This reminds him that he left his turntables back in Houston. That’s the only thing he’s going to miss _badly_. At least he took with himself the music he has finished working on. The last track on the second vinyl record was never completed, however. He never found enough inspiration for it. Plus, it was pretty shitty. He didn’t like it one bit.

“What are you doing?”

Dave hadn’t realized that he was staring at the lists blankly without writing anything. His straight expression was broken by a smirk and he closed the notebook, sliding it back in his backpack with the pen and gazing at John, whose hair had gotten messed up.

“Nothin’.”

“You _creative_ liar.” John laughed and straightened up, propping his glasses back on his not-so-perfect nose and making Dave’s smug smile grow wider.

“Aw, what about you trusting me?” He leant back in his seat and forced the grin back “I’m sorry, Egbert, but it’s confidential. I can’t say shit.”

“Can’t say shit my ass!”

“Ooh, what happened to the not cussing policy?” Dave asked sarcastically which got him and his new friend to laugh.

To put it simply, Dave spent his ride pleasantly even though he had to dodge the question _‘Why are you travelling to New York?’_ all the fucking time. Where was he going to stay? How was he supposed to enrol in a school? What about his brother? All of these questions would pop out in his mind from time to time and spoil the great mood John sets with his cheery personality and funny stories. The few hours left were a blur from laughter, stupid raps, constant short naps that were taken, crumbles from biscuits and John’s ramblings about his favourite movies. When the bus finally reached its last stop, dread punched Dave in the stomach again. Wow, reality sucks. John’s dad was waiting for him outside and he got to see what he looked like. He was slim, but short, and had a sort of a sophisticated aura around him that _didn’t_ make him seem like a stiff man. In fact, he looked really nice as he greeted Dave warmly with a brilliant smile that was uncannily identical to John’s. There was also this odd sweet smell to him. Pipe smoker, the albino figured. John surprisingly hugged the shit out of him. (He couldn’t breathe with those thin arms squeezing him.) They pulled away reluctantly and said their ~~sorrowful~~ goodbyes and then...

They went their own separate ways.

 

_“Time to explore, motherfuckers. New York better be ready for me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a light and hopefully amusing chapter before everything goes to shit and I start writing about more serious things rather than boys fighting their bladder.


End file.
